Complicated
by Insanity on High
Summary: Bella, a young, unemployed woman, meets a man that she thinks could be the man of her dreams. Then, Edward gives a shocking announcement and agrees to be his pretend girlfriend at a family event. But then complications arise. AU, AH CxB, EdwardxJacob


_Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight nor any of the characters in this story, it is purely for entertainment purposes._

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**Chapter One: Bella**

I blinked at the streams of sunlight that were illuminating the bed on which I was laying. I groaned and rolled onto my side. I hated seeing the brightness of a new day. It meant that it was one more day that I was alone in this world. To me it seemed that everyone had found his or her beloved other-half. Maybe it was just my loneliness speaking out, but that was the way I thought.

So, waking up to the brightness already put a damper on what could have been happiness and reminded me of the cold, hard facts. The truth was that these _facts_ that always loved to shove themselves in my face, mocking me, were as simple as the basic info on a profile page. They were as follows:

_Name: Isabella Swan_

_Nickname: Bella_

_Age: 25_

_Status: Single_

It never failed to amaze me how that word, "single", which to some meant freedom, was like a branding across my chest. It wasn't like it was a new development either. I had never felt heartbroken over a relationship-gone-awry. I didn't have enough boyfriends in my past to ever have felt like that, nor had much happened in those relationships. I was, simply put: plain, little Bella. (I always believed that my parents should have chosen a name that did not insinuate that I was pretty. Jane would have worked.) It was nice to know that boys did not avoid me like I carried some unknown pestilence, but neither did they swarm to me like moths did to the light. And of course, the fact that my three closest friends (Angela, Rosalie, and Edward) were exceptionally talented and gorgeous, did not help matters.

"Bella! You better be getting your sorry ass out of bed. It's nearly 9:15 and we need to talk," a voice called from the kitchen. That was my cue that in a few seconds the body of the man who owned such a melodic voice would be standing in the doorway, arms folded over his chest, with one eyebrow raised.

1…2…3…4…5

Sure enough, there he stood looking like a Greek god. He gave me a once-over, taking in my bed head with half my hair flat and half sticking up in all different directions, my blue rib-eyed tank, and the strap of my bra that had fallen off my shoulder. He exhaled loudly, showing his disapproval and returned to the stovetop. That was my signal to get a move-on, before he'd kick me out of his apartment. This was what happened most mornings.

I wasn't fully aware of what I was doing as I moved through the rest of my routine. My body was on autopilot until I reached my seat at the table. That was when the gears failed and I felt my body slouch.

"My, my somebody did not get much sleep last night. So, here's the breakfast I promised I'd make you," Edward pushed the plate of French toast and a mug of coffee black towards me. Then he ran his long pianists' fingers through his messy bronze locks. Even though our relationship was purely platonic, I have to admit the movement looked sexy.

I dug into the meal that he had so expertly made. I loved to take advantage of the fact that he and a friend had taken cooking classes together their last semester at NYU. I frowned slightly when I realized that he had never told me which friend that was. I was halfway done before I decided to speak.

"Edward… what did we have to discuss so badly that I could not get an extra 5 minutes of shut-eye time?" I was trying to make light of what he had made seem serious.

"Tanya and I broke up. Look, I hope this doesn't weird you out. If you want you can run the fuck out of here if it does, but you have a right to know…" he started and he began to pace. "I just discovered that everything we had did not feel right. I know neither you, nor Angela, nor Rosalie liked her very much, so I'm sure this isn't disheartening news," I snorted. We fucking hated her, and I for one, rarely swore. He was not finished; "I have liked someone else for quite a while. I've been trying to make the feelings go away, but I can't. I'm thinking I might give it a go."

"Oh. Why is it such a big deal? Do they have 3 eyes or something?" I joked. Why wouldn't he—

"It's a guy. Jacob Black. I think I'm gay," he had cut off my thoughts with that shocking statement. He sounded nervous as the words came out of his mouth as though he were afraid I would reject him. I had no problem with homosexuals. I just didn't understand them, nor had I ever thought Edward could be one. I mean, honestly, he had been a bit of a womanizer in college. Plus, if this was his decision, I would stand by him. What really confused me was that I had heard stories of his rivalry with Jacob since high school. How could the person you once disliked be 'the one' for you?

"Bella?" he questioned softly.

"I'm happy for you. I may not quite get it, but I'm here for you," I said confidently accompanying the statement with a smile.

"Thanks. Now finish eating, I've got to leave for the office in 20," and after his big announcement, he was 'Mr. Casual' again. This left me to nibble on my food and wonder what I could do to fill up my currently empty schedule.

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It was 11:00 when I stepped into a small lunch place that I had often passed and never entered. I was feeling slightly dejected after learning that all my friends were busy. I knew my feelings were childish, but it was just another depressing reminder of the fact that in addition to being single, I was unemployed.

The economic crisis sucked. The small publishing firm that I had come to love to work for had bit the dust. It had been a place where I could sit in my office, reading what could be the next Harry Potter, and it would be considered working. I had often wondered why I had such good fortune to land such a job.

That brought me to strolling into a house that was turned into a restaurant at lunchtime, instead of an office where I would work. The establishment was made to look Victorian on the outside, and was nice and homelike on the inside. There were black-and-white photographs everywhere to add to the old-fashioned look. The walls were a beautiful daffodil yellow that brightened the day of the customer. Here I sat down in a wicker chair at a table meant for two. The table was in the corner of the main room and there was a lacy tablecloth draped over it. I felt instantly comfortable and if the food was good, then I knew this would become a place I'd frequent.

"Welcome to The Catnip Mouse Tearoom. May I take your order, or are you waiting for someone else to arrive?" a waiter approached me. He was wearing a wide smile that grew even larger as his eyes raked over my body and spotted my chest. It didn't matter how desperate I sometimes felt, I mentally shuddered. It took all of my self-restraint to not show my discomfort.

The waiter had floppy brown hair and brown eyes with a hint of red that often flitted around the room, rather than resting on one thing. However, they always did come back to my breasts. I looked at his nametag that proclaimed that he was "Mike N." I wanted to formally lodge a complaint about him, and never return here alone. At least I wouldn't be alone as long as he was working here.

"It'll be-" the rest of my statement was cut-off by a velvety voice that could only belong to an angel.

It said, "It'll be the two of us." Mike's face went ashen as he looked into the face of the man who had spoken. He muttered something about 'hopeless to compete' and scurried off towards the back of the room. I looked down at the table. My face was getting hot, and I knew I was blushing. Who wanted a stranger to think they were so helpless that they needed to intervene?

Out of the corner of my eye I could seem a man's figure move past where I sat. There was then the distinct scraping sound of the legs of a chair against the faux-wood flooring. My blush deepened as I realized that he was actually going to sit with me.

That was when my nerves set in, and I started to formulate escape roots in my head. I did not know this man. He could be a serial killer, a kidnapper, or a thief. Of course, he could also be a kind person who sought to 'save a damsel in distress.' His voice was like Edward's. It was sweet and melodic, yet distinctly masculine.

"Thank you, but that was quite unnecessary. I am sure I could have managed on my own. But, you really are a good Samaritan," I spoke as softly as I could, and to the table.

"It was no problem, miss, otherwise I would have had to sit alone without any company. Saving you from the overzealous waiter was just killing two birds with one stone,"

I had to admit, I was surprised at his unwillingness to take the compliment. Most men liked boosts to their egos. I looked up.

He had slicked-back blond hair that was just asking to have one's hands run through it. His skin was pale to the point that it was almost white, and it was flawless. He had full pink lips that were curved in a slight smirk as he saw my eyes scrutinizing his facial features. Our eyes met. I felt light-headed and nearly stopped breathing.

I had always compared Edward to a god, but I could not think of anything that could compare with the beauty of this man. His eyes were like deep pools of amber and there was passion blazing there as he looking into my ordinary brown ones. Like any woman would, I felt instant attraction, but there was something more. There was some force that pulled me towards him.

I suddenly heard a growl from the kitchen area. It was only then that I thought that I probably looked like a total loser staring. I sincerely hoped that I hadn't drooled a bit. It was long past due for me to speak, and yet I still tried to redeem myself by speaking up.

"So, um… I suppose I should introduce myself. I'm Bella,"

"It's a pleasure to meet you, please call me Carlisle. I've never been here before. Have you?"

"Not at all. I don't know what to order. Everything looks delicious, but I think I'll have the Southwestern Roast Beef Caesar Sandwich and Chicken Mushroom Soup,"

"I was thinking maybe I could branch out and try the Curry Sandwich with a side-soup of Gazpacho. I've heard so many rave reviews for here from friends and co-workers," he smiled at me from across the table flashing his pearly whites.

I, who had not had a boyfriend since college, started to feel desire for this man rush through my veins, making me feel slightly uncomfortable. I had just met this man!

"May I take your order?" a female asked, and I realized that _Mr. Icky_ had pawned off the serving of our table to somebody else. I, for one, did not mind at all. We both ordered, and she left promptly.

* * *

Later, in bed, I thought about my conversation with the stranger. Carlisle. It was such a strong name, uncommon, but totally fitting for him. I remember my mother one said that she knew my step-dad, Phil, was the perfect man for her since she first met him. There was instant attraction. Whether or not it was what Renée had described, I could not be sure. Whatever it was, I wanted to explore it a bit.

We had spent a long time talking in that tearoom. It was almost like a date. I had learned that he and his ex-wife had been divorced for three years because they had never truly felt love for each other. In their time together, they adopted their orphaned niece and nephews. He had been a doctor at Forks Hospital and recently transferred to New York to be closer to his family. He had gone to Johns Hopkins for his undergraduate years and to the medical school there. He had grown up in a small town in Connecticut. He knew equally as much about my past. After just this one meeting, I knew all this and still wanted to learn more.

He had gained full control of my thoughts and I had not realized that my wonderful flatmate had been standing in the doorway for quite some time while I was off in la-la land with a love-struck expression. I was pitiful.

Edward sat on my bed, cleared his throat, and raised an eyebrow. It was his camp-counselor face. He was silently asking, "What the hell is wrong with you?" I knew what he wanted, but the truth was that I sure as hell didn't know what was going on with me.

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_A/N: I started this story about a year ago, and just found it. I spruced it up a bit... and well here it is! I'd like to thank my two friends, and amazing betas: Kinsie and Bleu (Pennwright). You both are wonderful for reading this over for me._

_Anyway, thank you for reading, a review to tell me your thoughts would be greatly appreciated. With hope, I'll update soon._

_-Insanity on High-_


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